**It’s a horrible task. A lot of great artists express their greatness prolifically, but few in the history of popular music have been so consistently brilliant for so long. I always lose mp3s from my hard-drive in meltdowns and extravagant flame-thrower accidents, but even with my sadly incomplete collection I still have over two days (that’s forty eight hours, if any of you are sleeping at the back) worth of Wiley mp3s which I’ve somehow had to pick just ten tracks from. It hasn’t been easy.

It’s not unreasonable to compare Richard Cowie to Bob Dylan or Miles Davis. It’s not like he’s not churned out a lot of shoddy material, like other legends, but his ability to adapt and find new ways of nuancing his skills is astounding. Wiley’s compulsive about music, and compulsively restless in the way he makes it. His plans change like the weather, he’s constantly unavailable, constantly changing his various mobile numbers: famously he’s like the 38 bus, cos he never turns up. He’s had beefs, fall-outs, and hissyfits galore, been stabbed 14 times, retired at least twice, and never released an album without denouncing it at some point, often before it’s been released. But each time you think he’s too bitter or dejected or exhausted to keep on making music (or at least, to keep on making good music), he hibernates as a ‘studio rat’ and comes back with some fresh wonder. He can’t help himself.

The concept of ‘scenius’, that inspiration comes from a collective semi-conscious mentality, is pretty appealing with grime. The grime scene has always had a collectivist, self-supporting attitude, despite mini-beefs, which in any case are usually more lyrical than real. As well as feeding on the communal hive-mind, collaborating constantly, Wiley’s had strong crew affiliations, from his early Pay As U Go days to primacy in Roll Deep, to a more sibling-like relationship with Boy Better Know. On radio, in lyrics, raves and interviews he exults the scene as a whole, and exults grime (“If you hear the name ‘grime’, Nan - I am the meaning”). He seems to feel the Godfather role keenly and has always been determined to bring people through. “If you’ve heard of Rascal watch out for Stryder” he spat back in 2003 – it’s quite poignant that both of these two have now had number 1 singles, something he’s failed to achieve.

Yet despite sitting proudly at the head of the table at grime’s family get-togethers, Wiley is a classic auteur, a one-man torrent of creativity. It’s not even about the Eski branding (sonically, or in the label or club night): just that in a scene of roaming militia, he’s always managed to be a lone gunman. And these ten essential Wiley tunes reflect him in that role – with a heavy heart I haven’t had room for any Pay As U Go or Roll Deep tunes, which is pretty astonishing really given how much good stuff he’s put out in both his garage and grime crew roles.

I’m going to cheat and cut a corner here and throw in bonus links to Wiley on Freeze FM spitting over jungle in 1998, and one of my favourite freestyles, ‘I’m like a 38 Bus Cos I Never Turn Up’. I always say this to people, so it would be remiss for me not to say it here: the best album Wiley’s ever put out was not actually put out by him: it’s free to download, and it’s the Grimetapes compilation of radio clips, Wiley Volume 1. **

THE FUCKIN' BEEEEEEEEEEST *COME TO YOUR ENDS LIKE ACHILESE AND TAKE OUT HECTOR**WILEY A FLOP, YOU MUST BE HAVING A BUBBLE BATH*

Friday, July 10, 2009

A COUPLE WEEKS AGO MARKS AND I HUNG OUT IN A TOWN CLOSE TO BERLIN CALLED BRAUNSWEIG...WHAT WE SAW WE WILL NOT JUMP TO FORGET. BRAUNSCHWEIG IS A SWEET SWEET TOWN, A HIDEAWAY FOR AMAZONIAN FEMMES RIPE FOR TEH PICKING.